


I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

by Odds_Evens



Series: Mercs with Mouths [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Hypnosis, M/M, Mental Disorders, Mentions of CT's death, Nightmares, Suicidal Thoughts, Wash in pain, institution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:39:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7413574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odds_Evens/pseuds/Odds_Evens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your name is David. Your friends call you Wash. You were an agent in Project Freelancer, a black ops section of the UNSC."</p><p>But Patient 2785 doesn't feel like that's true. If it was, he wouldn't be in this ward, trying to piece together his missing memories and get rid of the annoying voice in his head claiming to be an AI.</p><p>(Mercs with Mouths AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

" _Your name is David. Your friends call you Wash. You were an agent in Project Freelancer, a black ops section of the UNSC."_

"In our last session, you mentioned you were having difficulty sleeping."

Patient 2785 snaps out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

The doctor gives him a patient smile and he tries to focus.

" _He was talking about your last session. The fucked up sleep schedule thing."_

"Oh, yeah. That's right."

The doctor doesn't look at his notes. "You were put on sedatives, correct? Have they helped?"

Patient 2785 shifts in his seat, refusing to meet the doctor's eyes. "I don't know. I mean, I've been sleeping more."

"But...?"

" _Don't lie to him man. Just tell him how much those pills suck. That the nightmares are just getting worse. I can't wake you up from them and it royally sucks ass. Tell him, Wash, just tell him!"_

Patient 2785 closes his eyes and groans as the voice keep ranting. "Please shut up..."

The doctor hums from his place behind the desk and Patient 7583 quickly panics.

"That- I'm sorry! I didn't mean-"

"It's alright, David." The doctor smiles. "Just take a breath and focus. What is the voice saying to you right now?"

"He- I mean it, keep telling me to talk about the sedatives."

"What does he want to say about them?"

Patient 2785 hates how the Doctor keeps referring to the voice like it was a person. "They keep me asleep, but that isn't really a good thing. I still get the nightmares but now I can't wake up from them."

The Doctor nods and quickly writes a note down on the file in front of him. "I'll make a note to discontinue the sedatives immediately."

 _"I like him_."

Patient 2785 nods, a small smile on his face that the doctor notices. "Thank you."

"We're here to help you, David. Never hesitate to talk to me or any of the nurses if something is making things worse for you. You need to communicate with us if you want to see results."

" _Yeah, Wash. Communication helps. Maybe you should actually listen to me for once."_

 _That's not what he means and you know it._ Wash thinks, finally giving the voice in his head the attention it's been craving. _I'm trying to get rid of you, not listen to you._

" _I've already told you! I'm not a figment of your imagination! I'm a goddamn AI! An Artificial Intelligence, jackass!"_

Patient 2785 scoffs out loud and the Doctor gives him a worried look. "What is it, David?"

"Oh, uh, sorry, sir. Just... thinking."

"The voice again?"

Damnit. "It's just being a pain. I'm trying to ignore it."

"Ignoring it won't make it go away." The Doctor soothes. "We need to find out why you created Epsilon in the first place before we can help you make him leave."

And there it is. The root of the problem.

His first memory, his first REAL memory is of waking up at a military hospital nearly a year ago. The doctors there were suspicious and strict, and when the name he gave them matched a soldier declared K.I.A. things only got worse. His armour was appropriated as stolen military technology and he was sent from hospital A to jail B and back and forth before a midnight panic attack and a nearly decapitated guard led to him winding up in this hospital ward for good.

It was probably the best case scenario for him, honestly.

He had no memories, no name, and a snarky voice in his head that spent half its day confusing the hell out of him, and the rest judging the people around him like they were back in high school.

The voice called itself Epsilon, said his name was David and he was a soldier from a super secret project that was making super soldiers before it went belly up.

Whomever he was before he woke up in the hospital, he must have really liked spy novels.

"I've told you before, I don't remember anything before the hospital."

"That's alright, David."

Patient 2785 squirms in his seat. They called him David because that was the only name they had for him, and calling him by his patient number wasn't an option. But he didn't feel like his name was David. He only gave them that name because of Epsilon.

" _Your name WAS David. You prefer Agent Washington, though. Well, Wash, really. That's what your friends called you anyway."_

"David, how do you feel about hypnosis?"

Patient 2785 looks up sharply, confused. "What?"

"I know it's a bit unorthodox, but unorthodox might be what we need right now."

"Honestly sir, I'm willing to try anything."

\---

The hypnotist isn't someone Patient 2785 knows. He's jittery and small, but they're in the Doctor's office so at least he's somewhere familiar. Somewhere safe.

"Alright David, I want you to close your eyes and focus only on my voice. Can you do that?"

"Yeah. Sure thing."

He leans back against the lounge chair, relaxing against the extra pillows provided as he closes his eyes.

" _This is so stupid."_

_Shut up, Epsilon. You're stupid._

_"Great comeback there, kid. Really impressive. You sure showed me."_

_Oh I can't wait to get rid of you._

Surprisingly enough, Epsilon's voice silences after that. Usually he has a few extra retorts ready for that exact complaint, but not today. Maybe he's nervous too.

"What now?"

"Take a deep breath for me. In... And out..."

Patient 2785 does as instructed, shoulders still tight with tension.

"Now let's just have a talk. What's the first thing you remember?"

White walls and lights bright enough to hurt his eyes. It was streaming through a window rather then from a place overheard. It felt foreign, made his skin crawl.

Then Epsilon's voice telling him his name, telling him he was sorry but he couldn't convince the twins to keep taking care of him. He needed a real doctor.

"The twins? I want you to focus on that. Who are they?"

He sees matching armour, purple and lilac. Similar height and build, but the girl has pink tips in her hair and a temper. The boy made him think of warmth and safety. The boy smiled and put a hand on his shoulder while he slept.

_"It's okay, Wash. We have to lead Maine away from you."_

_"North! We have to go!"_

_"We'll be back for you as soon as we can. I promise."_

"Go back more. What are their names?"

North Dakota and South Dakota. A cruel joke from the counsellor. He was named Washington because it was the only state he knew. He was a colony kid after all.

There was a girl there named Carolina which was sort of cheating since that was her name before the project too.

"The Project?"

He knew an Agent Kansas when he first started training for the project. She was colour blind. Wyoming's name was funny since he was actually from Earth but from the British isles, not the U.S.A. Maine picked his name as well, he thinks. Connecticut's birth name was Connie but only he knew that. It was a secret she told him when she caught him crying over the idea that he might be cut from the project for being so bad at everything. She started teaching him to throw knives the next day.

"Who-"

That was before Connie decided to betray them all. And they had that disastrous mission where he got hit by another car and watched Maine punch a man's head clear off his shoulders and all his friends were broken and hurt. And when they got back to the ship, all he wanted to do was spend time with Tex or South but they'd both left the project after saving Connie. And he had to go in for surgery alone.

And surgery was-

Allison...

"David! Wake up!"

With a snap, Patient 2785 opens his eyes, blinking away the tears that started without his permission.

For a moment, both men sit in silence.

"David, who is Allison?"

He gets up and leaves without being dismissed.

\---

This is it. He's never going to get better. His delusions are so bad that he can't even come up with any real memories.

" _Wash those ARE your real memories."_

As if the voice in his head wasn't bad enough.

" _Hey I'm a fucking delight."_

Part of him wants to just end it all tonight. What's the point?

" _Hey wait. Don't think stuff like that. It isn't allowed, okay?"_

Part of him wants that. A smaller part still has hope.

_"I can work with that. Get some sleep, Wash. Tomorrow will be better."_

He highly doubts that, but he goes to lie down on his cot anyway.

He dreams of the girl from his memories. With short brown hair and light eyes. The girl who could throw a knife from across the room and have it land perfectly. The girl whose laugh melts away his tension and embarrassment as he misses a throw.

The girl who ruined everything.

\---

A few days later, Patient 2785 sits in the ward's common area, staring past two of the other patients as they play chess next to him. A nearby nurse tried having him play a game earlier but he refused. Normally he at least makes an effort to interact with people, but lately?

" _Lately you've just been a mopey old pain in the ass who doesn't want to do anything."_

_Shut up, Epsilon._

_"Oh so NOW you're talking to me, huh?"_

_Trying not to._

_"Love you too."_

Patient 2785 rolls his eyes before shifting in his seat, giving the room a once-over. A few of the nurses were helping some of the other patients on the far side of the room. The rest of the room was pretty empty considering the time of day but there was probably some sort of event happening right now in the courtyard. He tried to stay inside when he could. The sun hurt.

The double doors leading into the room opened, revealing two men in nursing scrubs. The shorter man carried a tray of medications, his long brown hair pulled into a loose braid around his shoulder. The man next to him was obviously one of the guards, back straight and eyes narrowed as he scanned the room.

He had only one half of a moustache, the other side only slowly beginning to grow back.

Patient 2785 isn't sure why he laughed out loud at the sight of it, but that brought both their eyes to him.

" _Oh shit."_

He remembered white armour and a British accent. Blue armour with a contagious personality. A sniper rifle and a tomahawk. Stories about Earth and a light brown hand on his shoulder after his first failed mission.

" _Wash. Run."_

He didn't need to be told twice. With two hands he grabbed the chess table in front of him and flipped it over, sending the pieces scattering onto the floor and distracting the nurse next to him. He dives, grabbing the man's ID tag before booking it in the opposite direction. A familiar shout let him know his pursuers were already following.

" _Turn right here! Left at the end of the hall."_

He knows where Epsilon is leading him, to the courtyard where the nurses enter and exit the building.

He swipes the ID badge against the last door, peaking behind him as the door counts down before unlocking.

The brown haired nurse skids around the corner, one hand using the corner to propel himself forward. But it's too late-

The light above the door turns green and Patient 2785 is outside, stumbling down the concrete steps and using an arm to cover his eyes from the unfiltered sunlight.

" _Okay, now we just need to get to cover and- SHIT DUCK!"_

The warning comes too late, a hard impact cracking him in the back of the skull and sending him flying forward to the ground, as if his body was nothing more then a rag doll.

His eyes are still open, staring at the rough Tarmac of the parking lot. He can't see him, but he can hear the British man's low chuckle from somewhere above him.

"Never could beat me in a fight, could you Washington?"

"Leave him alone, Reggie. Poor boy's gone through enough don't you think?"

The other voice is familiar too, although it definitely sounds... Off. Unfiltered. Strange. His vision is already failing, the blackness spreading from the corners of his eyes.

"My apologies, Butch, darling. Grab his legs for me, will you?"

"No time for that, the guards will be here in a moment. We'll just do the surgery here."

"As you wish."

He wants to say something, to fight back, but he can't. And everything goes black.

\---

When he wakes up again it's dark. He's on his stomach and strapped down, hands and legs cuffed to the sides of the gurney. Through the hole in the bed where his face is he can see the concrete of the solitary confinement rooms. He was pretty familiar with them from his violent episodes the first few weeks of his stay.

" _Oh good, you're awake."_

He's about to say something out loud when a familiar voice hums from nearby.

"Epsilon, didn't I tell you to let him sleep? I didn't bring anything to knock him out!"

" _Can you tell him to fuck off?"_

"Epsilon says fuck you." Patient 2785 grumbles, still trying to blink away the grogginess. There's a full throb in the back of his head from where the mustacho'd freak hit him.

" _That was Wyoming. Captain weirdo here is Florida."_

That's right. He knew them.

"Florida... What are you doing?"

"Oh you remembered me! That's quite a surprise! Intel said you were completely loco and couldn't remember a thing!"

"I'm... Not?"

"Well, I like to think we all are, sweetie."

He feels the prick of a needle on the back of his neck and his entire body jerks against the bed. "What the fuck?!"

"Shh shh." Florida soothes, hand rubbing the back of his neck as the pain gets replaced by a prickly sensation and then cooling numbness. "Just a bit of local anesthetic for the pain. Relax and this'll go faster."

"What are you doing?"

He can FEEL the first incision as Florida cuts into the back of his neck. There's no pain but definitely sensation.

"Stop! Florida stop! Please!"

"Hush, Washington. This is for the best. Just let me take Epsilon and everything will be better."

A cold chill fills his entire body at those words. Take Epsilon? How? "Why?"

"Reggie and I are Recovery Agents, sweetie. It's our job." He lays a soothing hand on Wash's head, petting him softly. "Don't you worry, you won't feel a thing."

For some reason, he doesn't believe that.

" _Wash, pull your right arm NOW!"_

He does, right arm flying free from the loosened restraint. He hits Florida in the gut and sends the man reeling backward. With a twist of his body, Washington ducks under the restraint around his back and undoes the restraint around his left hand. He grabs Florida's dropped knife, flipping it around in his hand like it was an old friend.

Florida straightens and Washington sends the knife straight into his shoulder. "Ah! REGGIE!"

The door to the solitary cell slams open, revealing the large British man holding his rifle, but Washington's already off the gurney, using Florida's cry of pain as a distraction before slamming past Wyoming and into the hall.

" _LEFT_!"

Washington runs left, skidding around the corner and almost running straight into a man in dark green armour.

" _OH SHIT!"_

Wash lifts his arms to defend himself against the man, but all he does is give him a once-over before grabbing Washington by the shoulder and pulling him behind him. "Stay down."

His voice is deep, and obviously filtered, but Wash listens, immediately getting down onto all fours behind him. "What's going on?" Who are you?"

"My name is Locus." The man responds after a moment. "I'm here to rescue you."

Wyoming and Florida skid around the corner, only for Wyoming to pull both of them back as Locus begins firing.

Locus presses a button on the side of his helmet, and when he speaks again his words echo through the hall. "THIS IS THE UNSC. PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN AND COME QUIETLY WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR."

"No thanks, old chap. We're quite content where we are!"

"THAT WAS NOT A REQUEST. COME OUT WITH YOUR-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence as a small hand grenade pops out from around the corner and bounces toward them. With one fluid movement, Locus has his gun holstered on his back, has Washington hoisted up into the air with an arm around his mid section, and has them both flying out of the nearest window.

The explosion behind them sends them flying and Locus loses his grip on Wash.

Wash hits the ground and rolls, stopping in a crouch before turning to look at the hospital behind him. Most of the windows are broken, fire clearly seen from the second floor.

"Are you all right?"

Washington considers running, but then Locus's hand is on the back of his neck.

"You're bleeding."

"Yeah." Wash mutters before touching the incision at the base of his neck. "They were trying to get something out of me I think?"

Locus nods his helmet before glancing down the street where the first of the emergency vehicles have just begun to arrive. "Come with me, we have much to discuss."

Washington doesn't think twice about following him.

\---

The next time Washington wakes up, he's staring up at a brightly lit room. Fresh sunlight streams through an open window, the faint sounds of a marching song drifting on the wind.

There's a suit of armour at the foot of his bed, all perfectly placed on a stand as if to be shown off. It's gunmetal grey with yellow accents and something about that just makes him feel warm.

" _Yeah, I thought you'd like that. Gave me a bloody heart attack when I saw him wheel it in though."_

_Who?_

_"Oh for-... Just tell Locus you're awake."_

Next to the window, a dark skinned man with a scar over his face sits with his nose in a book.

" _He's been here for like an hour. I'm trying to figure out if he's Black or Hispanic. Maybe Mulato? Samoan? Indian?"_

Washington blinks. _What's Mulato?_

_"Nevermind. Earth thing."_

Locus looks up from his book as Washington sits up. "You're awake."

"Yeah. At least, I think so."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I got stabbed in the back of the head."

Locus's lips pull into a smile and Washington matches it. "Accurate assessment."

" _Ask him what he is."_

_What? No! That's rude!_

_"Oh whatever. Just do it."_

"Is something the matter, Agent Washington?"

Something hits him in the chest, winding him. It actually takes him a moment to realize he hasn't been physically shot.

A dark skinned man with no hair and a frozen smile greets him on the drop ship. " _Your new name is Agent Washington._ "

An attractive blonde man with a winning smile laughs as he claps him on the back. " _Agent Washington, huh? I think I'ma call you Wash."_

A small brunette throws a knife, smiling as it digs itself into the middle of the target zone before motioning for him to take his turn. " _Let's see what you've got, Agent Washington."_

Locus puts a hand on his shoulder. "Take a deep breath. In, two, three, four. Now out, two, three, four..."

They repeat the exercise until Wash feels stable. Until he knows where he is. Well, sort of knows where he is.

"Where am I?"

"You are in a UNSC military hospital." Locus explains. "You were losing a lot of blood, and I did not trust the paramedics of that rock to give you appropriate care. The doctors here were able to stabilize you and reinforce your neural implant. Luckily, there seems to have been no damage from the fight."

"My neural implant?"

" _He means where my chip is. That little nub at the back of your neck."_

Washington lifts his hand to poke at the little sliver of metal on the back of his neck. There was something in there this whole time?

" _Yep. Hi."_

"I was sent to find you after you came to that first hospital, but Recovery beat me and erased your transfer records. I apologize for not arriving sooner."

"Who the hell is Recovery? Why were you sent for me?"

Locus sighs and takes a small data chip out of his bag, holding it out for Wash to take. "Here. This will explain everything."

"Do you have a computer?"

"Your AI will be able to read it for you."

" _He means me."_

"Oh." Washington looks up at Locus curiously. "So, I'm not crazy?"

Locus's lips twitch into a smile before he falls serious again. "All things considered, you are far more sane then anyone would expect."

He takes the chip from Locus' hand.

"I'll give you some privacy."

He exits, pulling the sheet around Wash's bed close behind him. With a hesitant sigh, Wash plugs the chip into the metal on his neck.

He sees everything.

The surgery, where a long dead woman reaches out for him.

Tex sitting next to him in the rec room, teasing him about his new AI.

The fight in the infirmary, and the panic attack brought on by the loss of gravity.

Maine's low chuckle as Washington manages to throw York onto his back during a CQC match.

Carolina's bright smile when York made a joke.

The Director-

He sees a video of the Alpha fragment being tortured by Sigma, Omega and Gamma.

He reads an autopsy report done on Agent Connecticut, torture, abuse, death via a shot to the head-

Finally, a recording. "My name is Malcolm Hargrove. I understand that you, like me, may have something to gain by bringing Project Freelancer to justice. I've attempted to do this through legal channels but despite my best intentions, the Director has slipped through my fingers. I believe it would be in our best interest to work together..."

Locus was going to stay with him, help him, train him. They would get their orders directly from Control himself, do anything Malcolm Hargrove may require, and not ask questions. Legal channels proved helpless, so to bring the Director down, Washington needed to be willing to do whatever needed to be done.

Could he do that?

There's a flash of Connecticut's autopsy again. This time with a photo.

\---

When Locus returns to the room, Washington is just slipping the last piece of armour on: His helmet.

"I take it you've made your decision?"

"I have conditions."

"Of course."

"One. I don't go up against my friends."

Locus nods. "Many of them escaped Freelancer long ago. We are unlikely to come across them."

"Two. If we see Florida or Wyoming, I get to shoot first."

"Understood."

"And finally, I keep my equipment." Locus opens his mouth to speak when a small blue hologram appears on Washington's shoulder. "ALL my equipment."

Locus considers it for a moment before nodding. "I believe your conditions can be met."

"Well all right then. Agent Washington and Epsilon at your service."

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaah this was a beast. BUT I AM SO HAPPY ITS DONE. I've been DYING to write this for so long! 
> 
> I love Washington. Especially when he's freckled, flustered, and in horrible pain.


End file.
